Forgot to Remember
by Pretty Girl 818
Summary: Almost a year ago Olivia lost her memory. She cannot remember anything from the last four years of her life. Plagued by dreams, all she remembers was Cyrus' last phone call asking her to join the Grant campaign. An Olitz story.
1. Chapter 1

**Forgot to remember**

**_My new story... This will be a longer story than the ones that I usually do so I really hope that you guys like it. There are changes in both the story and roles of some of the characters._**

**_Also, I do not claim to own any sections or phrasing that are distinctly from the show as they belong to Shonda Rhimes. I am merely using them as a foundation for the rest of the story. So please don't give me mumbo jumbo on intellectual property and copyright._**

* * *

Chapter 1: We are lost

It comes to her in flashes. Images of a life she cannot remember living...images so impossible and farfetched, that they make her think that her damaged mind was even more damaged than what the doctors had originally thought. Images she's convinced her mind creates to fill the empty void of memories lost...Of years lost in an instant. They play in her mind like movies. She feels him; she feels his touch, a body without a face or voice. It distracts her, frustrates her, these images that appear without warning. Olivia sighs as she feels the onset of another migraine. Her hands automatically move to the sides of her head to rub her temples in an effort to relieve some of the pain. So much for concentrating on the task at hand she thinks as she closes the laptop sitting on the desk in front of her and runs her eyes over the news on the TV on the wall opposite her, one of the few things still plugged in.

She makes her way to the kitchen of the two bedroom, two bathroom apartment in search of the painkillers the doctor had given her for moments such as these. Whenever she concentrates for too long periods or a possible new memory plays in her mind the migraines start. She was becoming tired of this. The endless questions running through her head, the seemingly endless uncertainty about whether her memories were fact or fiction. She grabs two pills as prescribed and downs them with a glass of water as she leans her hip against the counter.

She's had many memories, a lodge in the forest, a hunting trip, a lift...although that one made her angry. She replays the latest 'memory'. At first she was alone, in a big office it seemed, staring at a large mahogany desk in front a row of windows. Without her noticing his presence arms wrap around her middle and she feels her body being pulled back against the man standing behind her. She feels the soft touch of his hand as it runs down her arm while the other slowly draws her hair away from her shoulder. She feels the tingling under her skin as his breath makes contact with her shoulder and then the feel of his lips against her neck, slowly moving up to her jaw and then back down across her bare shoulders. She feels the love radiating in waves off his body, feels it in his every touch...feels her own body responding to him and the love in her heart for him.

Olivia gasps as she thinks of the memory, the emotions of it overwhelming her. She opens the tap and turns to the sink splashing her face with the cold water. She rests her elbows on the sinks edge, places her head in her hands and shuts her eyes to try and stop the tears from falling. How could this be happening to her? How can she be feeling all these emotions, yet she doesn't know where they come from or how she even remembers the feeling of 'him' if she cannot even remember who he is or even if it and if he was truly real? How could she be in love with someone she cannot remember, who is not around, who is not here to tell her whether what she feels and remembers actually happened or not, who (if even real) would be here?

It just didn't make sense to her. She feels the frustration welling up in her once again and the migraine slightly subside due to the medication taking effect. Might as well head to bed she thinks as she turns of the kitchen light and make her way out of the kitchen. There was no way that she would be able to work on the case anymore that night. She passes the TV on the way to her room and sees the news displaying images of the president and his wife at an opening of a new state hospital for children and she pauses. A feeling of familiarity but more than that, something stirring in her, an indescribable feeling of knowing runs through her.

She laughs quietly and berates herself as she turns the TV off, shaking the feeling as she walks down the hallway, littered with boxes, to her room. Don't be stupid Olivia, of course the president is familiar. You see him on the news constantly and you admire the way he runs this country. You agree with his foreign policy plans. Plus, he's the damn leader of the country. She pulls the covers around her shoulders and knows that she'll be dreaming of 'him' again. She just hoped that tonight she gets to see 'his' face in her dreams.

* * *

Fitz POV

It was late and he was still sitting at his desk in the Oval office working. It had become a habit he thinks ruefully. He hardly spends time doing anything else than practicing speeches, reading through drafts written by his staff members on various policies he wants to establish and reading through important documents given to him by his various advisors, documents from the VP, NSA, members of the pentagon and FBI. "Mr President," Cyrus says as he enters the Oval office, eliciting no response from Fitz. He stands awkwardly in front of the desk noticing the dark rings around Fitz's eyes. "Mr President" he tries again more forcefully, this time placing his hands on the desk, leaning forward.

Fitz sighs as he looks up at the man standing in front of him. "Cyrus..." he says lamely with a raised eyebrow, slightly leaning back in the chair, still clutching the documents in his hands. "Mr President, it's time to go home now...time to stop going through these documents that will be here waiting for you tomorrow." He was becoming worried for Fitz's health. Insomnia was a bitch and something that the president of the free world can't afford to suffer from. Mistakes come at a high price in the highest office.

Fitz chuckles slightly as he hears Cyrus attempt to get him to go home to his living quarters, to a room that was not comfortable, see a wife that was driving him insane, who he barely speaks to and have his mind free to think...free to think of her... free to miss her and feel the pain of her absence...no thanks. He feels his heart constrict and rubs his fingers across his right eyebrow as he stares at the man in front of him. "Cyrus, go home. I have a job to do and it doesn't mean that just because it's late I automatically stop. This job is 24/7 Cyrus, you and I both know that."

"Mr President...you and I both know that you can't keep doing this. You're exhausted and you're unstable when you get like this." Fitz chuckles again, placing the papers on the desk as he stands up, grabbing his glass from the desk and filling it with whisky for the fifth or sixth time that day. He can't really remember the exact amount of times he's found himself standing in front of the drink bar in his office. He brings the glass to his mouth and feels the liquid making a burning path down his throat as Cyrus continues on his rant. "You and I both know that this does not have anything to do with the job...it's been months and all you do is drown your sorrows. I loved her as much as you did...Liv wouldn't want th..."

He whirls around as Cyrus says this. He cannot believe the gall of the man saying something like that to him he thinks narrowing his eyes. He'd like think he'd know Olivia better than Cyrus would. He knows with certainty that he knows Olivia better than Cyrus does. "Don't you tell me what Olivia would have wanted because you really have no idea what she would have wanted," he says menacingly and with a slightly raised voice making it clear to Cyrus that this was not a topic that should be broached. "Do. Not. Speak. To. Me. About. What. Olivia. Would. Want. Again." He says slowly punctuating each word to make it clear that this was not negotiable. He downs the rest of his glass and turns to the drink stand again.

"Sir." He hears Cyrus say, and he chuckles again. Damn Cyrus for never being one to back down. "If you don't want to talk about Olivia fine, we won't talk about her, but this is unacceptable. You cannot continue to drink yourself into a stupor because you miss her. You cannot afford to be unstable. People are starting to notice. Sally is starting to notice. You better get a handle on this or drink yourself to death in the confines of your room, but if you want to remain president you need to stop and do your job with a clear mind." He hears Cyrus move to the door. "I know you miss her Sir, but it's time. She's not coming back this time" with that final statement he hears the doors close and he closes his eyes, resting his hands on the drink stand. He feels the pain course through him, the guilt. He knows Cyrus is right. It's becoming ridiculous; it's time to move on. He cannot continue doing this, but as much as he knows it he cannot stop himself from pouring another glass before downing it. Tonight was not the night to stop.

* * *

_**A/N: There you go. First chapter is mainly filler, to get it up an going. I'll be updating every week. Please review and let me know what you guys think. Any advice is good advice and you'll motivate me to continue!**_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey guys. Thanks for the reviews! They excite the hell out of me. I know some of you are a bit in the dark, but, without giving anything away I can say that Fitz and Olivia have had NO CONTACT since her memory loss. This chapter is a M. **

* * *

Chapter 2: Hi, bright new day

Olivia opens her eyes to the bright light streaming in from the window. She quickly closes them again, blinded by the piercing rays and she groans. Damn you she thinks as she moves her hands to her face, placing them like a cover over her eyes, allowing them to adjust to the light. Her eyes move to the alarm clock on the side table. "9:00 am, shit" she mutters under her breath quickly pulling the blankets off her and rushing into the bathroom. If she doesn't leave in the next 15 minutes she'll be late for her meeting and she hated being late. She was never late...it was something she did not tolerate from anyone...but here she was, running late... As she brushes her teeth she thinks back to the dream she had.

This time she was rushing down a hallway. She hears footsteps, someone following her. Rather than being afraid, she has an overwhelming feeling of sadness coursing through her body. She knows this person behind her. She knew he'd follow her just like he always does. She feels him come closer, making his presence known and then she feels him pull her with him into a closet. His lips instantly attached to hers. She feels the longing and the desperation as he's kissing her. Holding onto her face as if for dear life and then she pulls back, and her hand makes contact with his face. She sees him reel back, obviously shocked, and even though she's staring at him she cannot see his face. It is as if her mind is blocking her from the truth, as if it wants to protect her from the past and the reality. All she sees when she looks at him is a morphed face, like smooth clay before you start sculpting, and even though this should scare her it doesn't, because her body responds to him, her body tells her she knows him and she's not afraid of him.

So she moves forward, closes her eyes and feels their lips connect again. She feels him hike up her dress, him tugging down her panties. She feels the wetness between her legs and knows she wants him. She's longed for him and she allows him to have her. She turns around, places her hands next to some electrical wires, and feels him behind her, his one hand slightly pulling up her dress and the other holding her against him as he finally thrusts into her and she feels the bliss of their coming together. She feels his breath and lips on her neck. As they reach their peaks she turns her face to the side, wanting to get a glimpse of him and that's when she woke up.

Frustration makes its presence known again as she moves to her closet, quickly grabbing a pair of pants, top, blazer, heels and signature ring, glad that she owns neutral colours so that everything she wears fit together. Frustration has become like an unwanted yet welcoming friend to her. She's become so used to it, that she almost expects it. But still, even as she stands here putting on her heels, she can still distinctly remember the feel of him inside of her. Of his manhood filling her. Her heart rate speed up and her breathing becomes faster. She also remembers the hurt and it rattles her that those emotions are swirling in her and she doesn't know or really understand why.

She sighs again as she pushes the desire welling up in her to the back of her mind. She focuses on stilling her heart. Sighing as also become part of her repertoire. The unknown was driving her insane. The out of control and uncertainty feelings that were associated with her memory loss made her edgy. She's used to being in control. She wants to know her past. How did she lose 4 years of her life so easily? Sometimes she thinks it is better this way, the not knowing. What if she did something in her past that hurt someone else? What if she was a terrible person and people hated her – not that she really cared what people thought of her. What if she did something so unforgivable that memory loss was her saving grace?

She grabs her handbag and her laptop bag, stuffing the case folder in the front pocket. She's going to have to forgo having breakfast this morning. She was definitely not going to be late for this new client. He was high profile and not from around here, and she wanted to make a good impression. Especially since he was assigned to her by the senior partner in the law firm she was working at. Besides, she knew high profile people generally tended to be very impatient and impatience led to difficult and stubborn people and that was definitely something she wanted to avoid today, especially because of how the dream rattled her. This was going to be a long day she thinks as she gets into the elevator. Apart from meeting her client she also has to meet with her realtor to finalize the details and get her new keys. Despite her frustration and the irrational hurt she was experiencing, she was moving to Washington, the hub of politics, in a month and she could hardly wait to start this new chapter in her life. Just before the doors close in front of her she puts on her mask, hiding her conflicting emotions.

* * *

**A/N: I know it was short, but the next chapter is longer and is from Fitz's POV. It will she'd more light on things. The sooner you review the sooner I upload a new chapter...so let me know what you think. :) (New update most likely this weekend)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey guys. Thank you so much for the reviews. I find them very helpful in determining where I want this story to go. So to answer some questions without giving things away... I am not sure if OPA is going to play a part in this story as yet, if it doesn't then characters will definitely be used. Fitz is in his second term - the start thereof - and it's been a year since Olivia's memory loss. **

**Hope you like the 3rd chapter. It is all from Fitz's point of view.**

* * *

Chapter 3: It's time

Fitz groans as he becomes aware of a shrill sound in the background. His brain screaming at him to get whomever was making that noise to stop and stop it right at that instant. He slowly opens his eyes, it was as if someone had climbed into his head and was drilling with a jackhammer. He lifts his head from the couch and turns his head to identify the source of the noise. You have got to be kidding, he thinks as he notices Mellie with a hairdryer in her hand. "Morning sleepyhead" she says brightly, her eyes meeting his in the mirror. He hears the underlying sarcasm in her voice. "Turn that damn thing off" he mutters pushing himself into a sitting position. His body feels sluggish and heavy and he places his head in his hands, nausea welling up in him. He groans as he hears the hairdryer, this time on a higher setting; start again, Mellie ignoring his demand. He should have known. Mellie was definitely not going to give him peace. "Mellie..." he whines, the sound adding to his already clouded mind, egging on a headache. He lifts his head slightly and sees her eyes shift away from him. This woman infuriated him. She drove him insane and he was not in the mood for it.

He walks over to where the hairdryer is plugged in and pulls out the cord, taking the hairdryer from her hands and placing it in the vanity drawer before slamming it shut, effectively giving his head some reprieve. He glances at his wife's face and knows he pissed her off. "Not today. I'm not in the mood for one of your temper tantrums and besides, you do not have anything scheduled where you need mask who you really are" he mutters to her as he moves to the couch again. He sees the hardness in her eyes and he groans. Mellie was gearing up for a fight and his comment was the nail in the coffin.

"Fitzgerald Thomas Grant..." he groans again at the mention of his full name. He exchanged one irritating sound for another...Mellie's angry voice. This was bad and he knew Mellie was not about to let up. "Just because you've become a drunk and are incapable of handling situations like thousands of other people in this country does not mean that you are allowed to judge me or whatever tantrum I might want throw, because trust me on this..." he hears her voice wavering and sees the sneer on her lips "the only person who is allowed to judge in this instant is me, and if I want to dress up I will. I'm not some housewife who sits home, cooks and cleans, while her husband works all day long. Get yourself together. You're the president. You run the damn country and if you continue on this path you're going to screw up. You're acting childish and you're being pathetic and you're becoming your father. You have children Fitz, they don't understand why or what's made you become like this. They don't even want to visit anymore, scared that you'll lash out at them like you lash out at everyone else." He feels his face drop at the mention of his children, causing a halt in his thought process and he feels the shame tugging at his heart. His poor children, the only lights he has left and he's abandoning them. "Mellie.." he says resolutely, but she does not give him a chance to speak, her anger driving her "Just because your mistress died and you are drowning your sorrows in alcohol and just because you cannot handle that fact does not give you permission to behave like a drunkard and just do exactly what you want." The shame he feels is instantly replaced by pure anger.

He lets her finish. Silence descending between them, tension filling the air, and then he slowly stands up. The anger he held onto during her speech, simmering below the surface bursting out once again. "You're right Mellie. I. Am. The. President." As he says each word he takes steps towards her. "I can do exactly what I want to. If I want to drink myself into oblivion then I'm allowed to. Olivia was NOT my mistress. You know it and I know it. Let's make that clear once and for all. Don't you dare say that to me again!" he shouts seeing the colour drain from her face as he moves to stand right in front of her. "You try losing the love of your life" he sees the hurt on Mellie's face but ignores it, too angry to really care about it at this moment. "How about you continue on as if nothing happened, hear people tell you to move on with life. And don't you act as if you are the perfect mother, because you can be very cruel and cold and all our children know that. They see it. So don't bet on winning any mother of the year awards anytime soon" He shouts angrily.

"I already have lost the love of my life and I am aware of how my children perceive me" comes the silent and simple reply. His eyes bore into hers and he sees the fear, disappointment and hurt that she's trying to hide. He sees her hug herself and then watches her turn to the vanity behind her. For some reason he feels guilty. He shouldn't have said that. Mellie, despite her faults is still the mother to his children. Despite her nature she does try being better around each child and she did try to help him through everything. She was the one that took the reins when he was told that Olivia was in a comma. She was the one who informed him of Olivia's passing and who held him during his tear filled breakdown; and here he was just throwing it all, his relationship with Olivia included, in her face.

He moves to behind her, slowly turning her body to his. Sorry for saying all those things to her. He did love her, she was the mother of his children. Olivia was gone now and maybe it was time to move on and try to live in peace with Mellie. After all, she was his wife and he did not have, nor did he intend to have anyone else. Olivia was it and if he couldn't have her, then Mellie would have to be enough. "I'm sorry Mel". "I'm really sorry..." he says laying his head against hers. "I just...I'm trying... I'm going to stop drinking, but it's not that easy," he says closing his eyes. "I'm sorry for implying that you're a terrible mother. I know you try to be better." He feels Mellie sigh in his arms as he says these things to her. It was time he thinks, he cannot become his father and he was not deserting his children. He could not afford to make mistakes with the country and he cannot afford to have Mellie as an enemy." He feels Mellie move her hand to his face...her thumb rubbing up and down his cheek.

"Thank you. I'm sorry about Olivia, but there's nothing I can do to bring her back." he hears her say softly before continuing. "But if you don't get your act straight, and make sure that you stop drinking then I am taking over." Steely determination in her voice. He wrenches his eyes open, staring at her. "I can run the country, we both know it." He knows she's telling the truth. The normal Mellie, taking control of the situation and the hurt, disappointment, anger and softness from a few seconds ago, gone now... He watches as she places a soft kiss on his cheek, patting the other cheek before turning around and exiting the room.

* * *

**A/N: Hope you liked this chapter. Please review and let me know whether you like it or not. Next chapter is from Olivia's point of view again... this time we find out who her client is. **

**PS# I have another Olitz story that I just updated called I Love You if anyone would like to read more from me (Shameless self-promotion.) :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Here is the next chapter guys. Thank you for all your wonderful reviews. Hope you like this chapter!**

* * *

Chapter 4: You & Me, it's a thing.

As Olivia walks into the air conditioned building of Thomason and partners, she shrugs off her jacket, the summer heat getting to her. "Hey Jerry..." she says smiling to the security guard standing a few feet from the entrance. "Hey Miss Pope, and may I say you look beautiful today." She smiles even wider at his complement before winking at him as she enters the elevator. Jerry was the first person at Thomason and Partners who was overly polite to her and if he was not a seventy year old, happily married man she'd think he was hitting on her. He always managed to make her feel good on her off days, and he was the only person she had told about her dreams... not the steamy parts, but the other parts. He had told her that it was a sign, that there was someone out there who she was supposed to be with and who she was supposed to look for. The love of her life. Although she didn't really believe in stuff like finding the love of your life she couldn't help but feel that there was some truth in what he was saying.

The lift doors open on the 23rd floor and she walks into an office space. She feels the nervous excitement in the air and smiles. Her colleagues always became like this when their client was high profile and the females when it was an attractive guy. Olivia shakes her head as she walks around the desk of two women, the one telling the other that she would not mind getting it on with the man in Mr. Thompson's office... Olivia never mixed business with pleasure. She found that it ruined relationships and made for bad business. Plus it was extremely unethical and there was definitely no way she was compromising her position at the firm, especially because of all her hard work and now that she was going to be in charge of the DC offices. Plus she could not let down Mr. Thompson. He was in the hospital when she woke up after her comma, offering her a job that she would have to take then and there if she wanted it. He gave her a shot, not knowing if her mind was able to perform and she owed him a lot.

She enters the office without knocking. That's her thing and no one tries stopping her from doing it anymore, despite some people hating it. She doesn't do it out of rudeness but rather that she doesn't have time to knock if she there is a case that needs to be handled. It's pure determination driving her. "Ahh, Olivia" she hears Thompson say as she closes the door behind her. She stills for a moment as she stares at the man sitting in the seat before her, in front of her boss's desk. Inappropriate thoughts make their way to her mind and now she gets why those women were willing to sleep with this man. "This is Jake Ballard, you're new client". His voice drowned out by her thoughts. He's attractive she thinks as her eyes take in his face, the only part she sees that is not hidden behind the chair. Short dark brown hair, full lips, kissable lips, and a nose that wasn't perfect but, worked on his face. She berates herself as she hears Thompson say her name.

"Olivia, of course you've spoken to Mr. Ballard before, but he's in town for the week and because you demanded to meet him before you relocated to DC and took his case he came to see you." She nods and moves forward, extending her hand. She watches as he stands up to shake her hand and notices his lean physique and business suit. This was a man who worked out to make sure he stays fit. "Olivia Pope, nice to finally meet you in person", "Likewise" comes the reply, as he takes her hand in his. She feels a hint of electricity, and her eyes quickly look up into his. She sees the recognition in them, and knows he felt it too. She pulls her hand back quickly, taking a seat on the opposite chair, but not before glancing his way. He was staring at her with a satisfied smile on his face, ideas obviously flicking through his head. She had been speaking to Mr. Ballard, a high ranking politician, on the phone for the last two weeks, strategizing on how to get money back from a ex girlfriend who had been stealing from him without the public finding out he'd been duped, and now she was beginning to wonder whether it was a good idea to meet him in person. This was the first time she felt a spark since her accident and it was a strange yet exhilarating feeling.

No, she berates herself for what it feels like the 1000th time that day. This is business... this was the way that she did business. Just because he was attractive and there was a spark, did not mean anything...she'll just ignore it...It did not stop her from doing her job and doing it well. She was the best and she was not arrogant about it. It was a fact. She was an enigma in the business. She worked on high profile and sensitive cases, but always behind the scenes. She made sure that her name never got published in any newspaper. She received the credit at work, but the company used someone else as their image.

"Why don't you guys go for brunch, on the company of course, and get to know each other and discuss some business." Mr. Thompson was eager; this was a case that could provide them with a lot of money and a much larger company image. This case could set the company up as being THE law firm used by politicians. "That's a great idea" she hears Mr. Ballard say from his seat, rubbing his hands together before standing up to shake the her bosses hand.

'No!' invades her mind almost instantly. This would be a very bad idea...she could see from her Jake's...ugh...her client's demeanour that he intended for this brunch to be more than just a brunch. She was sure he'd find a way to talk about other things instead of the case and she's sure that she would let him do that. She had not been on a date since her accident so she could only stay strong for so long, especially with what she knows of her client. He was a very determined man. He would not be her client if he was not intent on winning.

Olivia stands up and grabs her purse, extending her hand to her client for the second time that day. "No, that won't be necessary." She sees disbelief make its way across her boss's face, if only you knew she thinks as she ignores it, turning her head to her client. "I know everything that I need to. I have other cases that need to be finalized before I leave. Thank you for coming in today to see us. " She sees him quirk an eyebrow before she grabs her phone and walks to the door. Before she exists she risks one more glance his way and sees his mouth turn into a challenging smirk. He was not going to let up until he had her alone.

* * *

**A/N: So to clarify: In this story Jake was not the agent Fitz used to spy on Olivia. It was another agent... Jake is still Fitz's friend but... you'll see why I did what I did. The story needs a bridge and Jake is going to be the metaphorical bridge. **

**Also, like I said in chapter 1, some characters have roles that change in my story and Jake is one of them. **

**Review and let me know your thoughts! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for the reviews... loving all of em. Here is the next chapter! Hope you like it.**

* * *

Chapter 5: I'm moving up and on

Olivia groans as she walks up the steps to her new apartment, a box containing her microwave, toaster and other cutlery in her arms. Why did she not let the movers carry this up? She should rather have taken her clothes or something lighter. She was by no means weak, but 12 flights of stairs and a heavy box, one of the many she's already taken to her place, was enough to tire any person. She huffs as she places the box on the step in front of her, somewhere between the 8th and 9th floor, balancing it against the front of her leg. She stretches and massages her arms where she can feel the strain. The lift would have been much better. It was air-conditioned and would have gotten her to her place in less than 5 minutes. Why did she convince herself that she could do with more exercise? She swam almost every day and running she did on weekends. Was that not enough? This weather was not doing her any favours either and she had already taken off as much clothes as she could, only wearing navy blue shorts and a tank top her hair tied into a bun.

She looks down at the box at her legs and as she moves to pick it up she sees two arms snake out and grab the box before she can. "Hey!" she says gruffly as she looks at the person standing next to her, the box in his arms. "Could I have that back?" she asks seeing him walk past her, continuing up the stairs. He was ignoring her and it was starting to irritate her, plus what made him think that she was not able to carry her own boxes. She reaches out and grabs his arm, feeling the little shock again. She sees him still in front of her. "How do you know where I live?"

"Simple. I asked Thompson. Told him that if I had an emergency how could I get into contact with you straight away? That is when you weren't answering your phone" he says knowingly to her. She had been avoiding his calls the last few days. He had continuously phoned her after that meeting, wanting to get together for breakfast, dinner or lunch. Even offering to bring it to wherever she was. He had shown up unannounced during the weeks' before her move hoping to catch her according to her assistant. "Mr. Ballard." She huffs. "Jake" he interjects before he continues moving up the stairs, forcing her to follow. "Jake. That is highly inappropriate and I do not appreciate the fact that you asked my boss for my address, nor do I like the fact that you just decide to show up here unannounced." she says glaring at him as she grabs the box when they reach the 12th floor. He laughs and follows her down the hallway. "Olivia, go on a date with me".

She groans again, this time because of his words. "You are my client and that's highly improper". She waits for a mover to exit the door before she goes inside and pulls the door closed behind her, having enough of this conversation. "Fine, she hears him through the door. You're fired." She drops the box inches from the floor and whirls the door open, flabbergasted. She sees him smirking at her as she speaks "What! You're going to fire the best shot you have at getting that money back just so you can go on a date with me?"

"Yes, I am. I already have a new lawyer, don't worry, one from your firm." He says waving his hand to avoid her outburst of indignation. "I just wanted to see if I could convince you while you thought otherwise." She could not believe this. "Come on Olivia. You want to go on a date with me. I can see it. You haven't had the Jake Ballard experience. We'll hang out. Anywhere you want...as long as it's not uptight and a place where you go to end dates" She feels her walls crumbling slightly. "And if you're a good date I'll invite you to go with me to the Presidential Gala" he sing songs.

She feels excitement welling up. She really did want to go to the gala, but she was too late in letting her boss know that she wanted to go. Mr. Thompson, due to his political clients always received tickets. Plus going on a date with Jake was appealing. This was the first time that she really wanted to go on a date with a guy since her accident. Many others had tried but she always said no. "Fine. One date." she says holding up a finger. His determination finally breaking down her defences far enough to allow him and her this date. She sees the smile break over his face. "Great! Pick you up tonight." He says quickly before turning around and strolling down the hallway. "What?" he turns slightly and smirks again. "Oh, didn't I tell you. The Gala's tomorrow night and if I'm taking you as my date then we'll have to go on a date tonight. You know before I commit myself to taking someone that could bore me to death. Pick you up at 7. " He winks as he turns to take the stairs.

Well, that's something new, she thinks as she closes the door, smile lighting up her face. Usually guys took her stern no for a no...but she was exited... she frowns looking around her new apartment her eyes landing on the countless black clothing bags housing her outfits. Now where did she put that little black dress?

Fitz POV

He looks up as Mellie enters the room. Since their conversation a month ago, things have slowly improved. He hadn't had a drink since that day, despite the fact that he still thought of and missed Olivia constantly. He was trying to make peace with the fact that she was gone and he forced himself to think of his children whenever the hurt became too much. He was not going to do that to them again. "Fitz honey" he hears Mellie say sweetly as she comes to a stand next to his chair. "Tomorrow's gala, did we really need to invite that dreadful woman? She'll only make the night worse." He turns to her as she lifts the page of the document he's busy reading. "Mellie." He says sternly, her instantly dropping it again.

"We have to invite her. How would it look if the President did not have his Vice President in attendance? People are going to wonder whether there was discord in the White House." He sees her sigh dramatically. Just like Mellie to make a big deal out of a little thing. "Can't we lie and say that she had a family thing? She's always so rude to me. Thinking she's better" she says determined to get Sally of the invite list. He chuckles slightly standing up. "Mellie, no, she's already told the press how excited she is for this gala. We'll just have to deal with her for the night. You can rearrange the seating" he says hoping to appease her so that he could get back to the more important things waiting for attention. He did not like that he had to attend this gala either, but it was part of his job description. "Okay, yeah. I'll place her next to that dictator and his wife. She hates them. Always calls him a pompous waste of political space - whatever that really means. Great idea honey" She kisses him on the cheek before walking to the door. He sighs as he walks to the window, staring at the large expanse of lawn. Mellie has been treating him really well since her threat. She was trying to make their relationship work it seemed, and with Olivia out of the picture she didn't seem to resent him anymore.

As usual he feels the anger and hurt well up in him at the thought of her. Tonight was the first gala that she would not be in attendance. Even when they went their separate ways the last few years she always came on Cyrus' insistence. He thinks back to last year's gala. She looked absolutely breathtaking in her white and golden gown. He still remembers dancing with her, the feel of her in his arms, the touch of her hand on his shoulder, the other holding his hand. His hands move to his pockets as he feels a tingling. He smiles slightly as he remembers her berating him for staring at her as they danced. He never could look away from her when she was around. He turns his head to the papers on his desk...strangely content in the memory of her. Hopefully this was the start of him being able to think if her without rushing to dull his pain. This time he didn't even have to remind himself of his children.

* * *

**A/N: Review and let me know what you guys think of this! :) **


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hey guys. Thank you for all your honest reviews! They really do motivate me to continue this story. So I know many of you want Fitz and Liv to meet in this chapter, but before that can happen we first need Olivia's and Jake's Date/start of gala day. This chapter is needed - more background on Olivia is given.**

* * *

Chapter 6: Just Wow

It was the day of the gala and she was about to take a long bath, to soak her tense muscles and wash away the sweat from her body. She'd been cleaning the house the whole morning. Organizing her apartment and placing things on their rightful position. She was nearly done, having worked like crazy the whole morning; and telling the movers exactly where to put the loose items yesterday so that she would not have to struggle doing it when she unpacked the rest of her things. She takes a sip of the wine she had poured herself before getting into the bath while her mind replayed the night before.

She had just fished getting ready, putting the clasp on her earring when her doorbell had rang. She stood up, smoothing out her dress and taking one final look at herself in the mirror before making her way to the door. She looked at the clock standing on the side table as her hand reached out to grasp the doorknob. Jake was on time. He was perfectly on time, the clock showing 7:00pm on the dot. She opened the door and he stood there, his signature smirk in place, holding a bottle of red wine. He handed her the wine and she smiled. Well that's refreshing coursed through her mind. Usually guys brought flowers for their dates.

"Wine" she asks raising an eyebrow. He shrugs placing his hands in his pockets. "Earlier today, before you rudely closed the door on me and then opened it again I noticed your wine rack. Thought I would take a chance and bring you wine." She quirks an eyebrow at his statement and glances at the bottle in her hand before a smile crosses her lips. "Good choice and you're on time. If I didn't know better I'd think you were trying to impress me". She watches as he shrugs before taking the bottle from her, putting her hand in the crook of his arm in the process. "We'll take this to go" he says lifting the bottle slightly.

They had, had a wonderful evening she thinks. They didn't go for a traditional date of dinner in some fancy restaurant. Instead he took her to the Lincoln memorial and they ate on the steps, sharing the wine between them and telling stories, he more than her. He had confessed that he'd been waiting for ten minutes before he knocked on her door because he did not want to be late and make her wait. Despite his obvious over-eagerness she was glad he had because tardiness was a characteristic she hated. Before the night had ended he confronted her jokingly about her about her lack of sharing about the last four years of her life and she had opened up and told him about her memory loss. He had joked that maybe that was a good thing for their date, so that no other guy could overshadow him and she had actually laughed. Which was strange...she never laughed about her missing thoughts. He was the first person to make her laugh about it and not make her feel self-conscious.

After that, she had told him everything. She had told him about her waking up in a strange hospital, completely disoriented, in pain and banged up with no memory of how she got there or her accident. All she knew was that they had found hr car wrapped around a tree and her unconscious with a weak heartbeat. She told him about how angry she was the first few days because she lost so many years of her life. She told him about the overwhelming sadness she felt, because her parents had died whilst she was still in law school and no-one came to claim her or was there for her when she woke from her coma. She had told him about meeting Mr. Thompson in the hospital whose wife was going for an operation. She had been sobbing in the hallway after one of her walks when he had come across her. He had joked that she was too pretty a girl to be crying by herself and he had taken it upon himself to make her smile. In the coming days, after his wife's operation and his visitations he had also visited her. They had quickly become friends and he had told her about his job and his wife's cancer, and had asked about her life too.

She couldn't tell him much, except that she was a lawyer and that she had graduated. She had shared with him the life she could remember and then one day, out of the blue he had offered her a job. She was shocked. How could he offer her a job when she had memory loss, he didn't know what she was capable of and the doctors didn't know yet whether there were any further damage to her brain. He had told her he had faith in her and he had asked for information about her from the law school she had studied at. He had said that if she wanted the job, then she had to take it then and there, so she did and promised herself that she wouldn't let him down.

Jake had listened without saying anything and then when she was finally done he had turned and leaned close to her and whispered that he had never met anyone as strong, successful and determined as her, and it was definitely a turn on. She had blushed then and pushed his shoulder, earning a chuckle from him. She couldn't believe he was joking around after she told him something so serious, but it was refreshing. There was no pity in his eyes and she liked that. He had driven her home and kissed her on the cheek at her door, telling her that he had a wonderful time and that he couldn't wait to have her on his arm again at the Presidential gala the next night.

Olivia smiles as her mind returns to the present. He really was a great guy despite being a bit persistent...her gut even confirmed it, and her gut was the only thing she trusted, especially after her life. She couldn't wait to see him again she thinks as she gets out of the bathtub and dries her body off.

Olivia makes her way into the bedroom. She really did love this apartment. It had two bedrooms, one for guests and the other was hers. There was two bathrooms, hers being connected to her room, and a spacious living room that led into a dining room which was also connected to a cute entryway and a closet to hang coats in...The living area of her apartment had a more open plan feel. Her kitchen was of average size, but that didn't matter to her, she never really cooked so she wasn't going to be spending time in there... By far the best part of the apartment was the closet and the wine rack that was located in the dining room. She loved clothing, shoes and jewellery. She wasn't a big spender, but if she saw something she loved she had to have it. Plus she loved mixing and matching what she had. And the wine rack was to die for. It had little diamond boxes that housed the wine and was made out of red mahogany where if the light caught it just right, you would see the tiniest and thinnest orange stripes every here and there. The wine was the first thing she unpacked and then she did the closet.

This place really embodied who she was and she was glad that she had found it. It was an accident that she saw the ad. Her neighbor's mail was in with hers and she saw it as she was sorting through the envelopes and advertisements. Her neighbor was coincidentally also moving and she kept the page before giving him his things.

Olivia looks down at the dress lying on the bed after she had done her hair and makeup. She was wearing red lipstick and had curled her medium length hair. It really looked old Hollywood glam she thinks as she runs her hands down the material. It was one of the prettiest evening gowns that she had ever seen and the moment she saw it she had bought it. The left arm had a long black lace sleeve, a panel of lace running down the left side of the gown, the other side armless and white. She rubs her body with vanilla cream and zips down the dress before stepping into it, straining to reach behind her to zip it up. "Phew...now I remember why I've never worn it" she mumbles jokingly to her reflection in the mirror. The actual truth was that she had waited to wear it, because she had wanted to for a special occasion, and tonight was the perfect night to make its début. The dress didn't wear her that was sure, it enhanced her beauty and made her look more elegant than before.

She grabs her perfume, spraying some on her wrists, her neck – just behind her ear – and between her breasts. She ads black studs to her ears, places a black sapphire ring on her right hand and slightly lifts the bottom of the dress to step into her black strappy heels. She was glad her French manicure still looked good. The doorbell rings as she does this and she quickly grabs her black lace clutch before one last check in the mirror. She admires herself and smiles. There...she was done.

"Wow..." Jake says as she opens the door. She sees his eyes run down her body. "You look...you look...wow..." comes the speechless reply before he steps forward and kisses her on her cheek. "She smiles as he places her hand in the crook of his arm again and pulls her out the door. "Your chariot awaits milady" and she laughs as they get into the lift.

* * *

**A/N: Hope I did not traumatize you with the date... i have a clear idea of the story's progression...the next chapter will be from Fitz's POV and then in chapter 8 things really start happening... ;) **

**Review and let me know what you guys thought of this chapter! **


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: So here we go guys, last chapter before the really good stuff starts... this is all from Fitz's POV. Thanks for your helpful/motivational reviews. **

**I know many of you have questions, but bear with me, after this chapter and in the coming ones you will start getting answers. **

**Hope you enjoy this. **

* * *

Chapter 7: Why, hello there stranger

Fitz POV

The gala was a tremendous success. Then again, it always was. Mellie and her planners always made sure that everything ran smoothly. That everyone knew what their job was. The drinks were flowing on account of the fact that the press had been asked to vacate the premises an hour ago. It was the portion of the night where every politician just let go without having to worry about being scrutinised and harming their reputation. The live band was amazing, still able to entertain people hours later, now and then taking song requests from guests. Everyone seemed to be having a good time except him that is. He had not had a drink the whole night, being restricted to only drinking water, and he was frustrated, surrounded by drunken idiots. Somewhere he remembered seeing Sally teaching the dictator next to her how to do the two step, obviously having too much to drink and having forgotten her hatred of the man. He chuckles slightly, thinking of how Sally would react the tomorrow when she realised what she was doing tonight. He would love to see that.

Some of these politicians and foreign ministers were driving him insane with their stories and their jokes, forcing him to laugh and smile even when they weren't funny and even when he didn't want to. He had finally managed to get away, using the excuse that he would really like to enjoy the evening with his wife. Fortunately for him, that was the truth. He was really trying... he wanted to make their relationship better...healthier...that's all he could ever manage. He would never be in love with Mellie again, but he did love her as a friend and companion, and mother to his children. He runs his fingers through his hair absentmindedly. His head hurt, and he was tired of everyone, wishing they would all just go home. Plus, a feeling of unease and anticipation surrounded him most of the night, making its appearance the moment he walked into the room where the party was happening. Even now, it was nagging at him. Something was off...not in a sensing danger kind of way, but something was just not as it should be...he just didn't know what it was yet. He sighs, looking around the room for the 100th time that night. It was packed... he had not even said hello to everyone yet. He spots Cyrus across the room in deep conversation with his husband James. It seemed they were arguing by the rapid movement of Cyrus' mouth and hand. He watches as James, mumbles something before storming out of the room.

Fitz makes his way across the room to where Cyrus was furiously rubbing his head, frustration marring his features. "What was that about" he asks handing Cyrus a drink he had grabbed from one of the trays as he comes to a halt next to the man, letting his eyes wonder over the people dancing. "He's driving me insane! I gave him exactly what he wanted and he's still not happy, and as much as I love and adore Ella I'm not the dad that spends 24/7 with her and entertains her and keeps her busy. That's James' job. I have a very demanding job as this country's chief of staff. But no, he wants more family time, he wants me to not work weekends... and come home earlier to read to her before bed. He wanted me to come home now, but he's missing the part that this is the ideal opportunity to butter people up" Cyrus whines. "Dammit, if I wanted to become a librarian I would have" Fitz chuckles, watching the man down half of his drink in one sip. His eyes make their way to the dance floor again seeing Mellie approach them. "What a lovely party this is, don't you think" Mellie says standing in front of them. He hears Cyrus scoffing and he grins, shaking his head slightly.

"Cyrus, you're in one of your moods again. Why don't you have another drink and try and put a smile on that always dark face of yours" Mellie says sarcastically eyeing him. Fitz sighs, seeing Cyrus turn to his wife with a challenging expression. This was not the time for one of their little arguments. "Mellie..." he warns for the second time that day.

"Fitzgerald, why don't you take your _lovely_ wife for a dance, before, in a minute, people wonder why I have my hands around the neck of the first lady and I'm dragged out of here by Tom and Hal" his voice laced with irritation and contempt. "Cyrus..." he warns before he takes Mellie's hand and pulls her to the dance floor. "You have to stop" he grumbles in her ear as the move across the floor. "The poor man is having troubles with his husband and you aggravating him is not helping. I cannot have an irate Cyrus running around this gala. Who knows what he'll get up to." He looks down at her and sees her nodding glumly. "Fine. I get it, it won't happen again...in public that is".

He sighs as he briefly watches a smile cross Mellie's lips before he lifts his head, the unease becoming more pronounced. He glances at the people standing around the dance floor, and then something catches his eye... a dark haired brown skinned woman in a white and black dress slipping out of the door with someone. Slipping out a door that should be guarded, a door that led to the private rooms of the White House. Something pulls him in the direction of the door... the back and hair of the women seeming so familiar to him..._Olivia? _runs through his mind. Unease swirls in him, hope makes a knot in his throat, and he lets Mellie's hand go. Leaving her on the dance floor and without saying anything he follows, slowly passing people to get to the door...pushing back the thoughts of impossibility. He needed to see...he needed to make sure that what his mind was conjuring up was not fake...he feels anticipation blossom in his heart as he reaches the door and pulls it open, entering the hallway and coming face to face with the one person he didn't think he was going to see here.

* * *

**A/N: There we go...let me know what you guys thought! :)**

**And in the next chapter we get the moment you've all been patiently waiting for.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Thanks for your reviews guys. They make me very happy! :)**

**So here we are, chapter 8. THE CHAPTER...By far the longest chapter I've written for this story thus far. Hope you like it!**

* * *

Chapter 8: What...but, how?

He feels hope blossom in his heart as he reaches the door and pulls it open, entering the hallway and coming face to face with someone he didn't think he was going to see here. He stops in his tracks, momentarily forgetting the purpose of his exit. Hollis Doyle... Fitz stares at the man standing in front of him, a grin crossing his face. A person would swear that the man was a cat who had just caught a Canary. If he wasn't feeling irritated before, he was definitely feeling so now. The man was a pest...he had insisted that they not extend him an invitation and not sell him a ticket either, so what was the guy doing here? Ever since he found out about Defiance and the various threats Hollis made to get what he wanted he had ever so slightly pushed the guy out the door... he had not done so completely because he couldn't risk Mellie or Cyrus or even Olivia getting in trouble so he had kept him close enough to not warrant further threats but far enough that he did not have a chance to either.

"Ahhh, Mr. President. How lovely to see you again. It's been a while..." Hollis says, his Texan drawl pronounced. "Hollis." Fitz nods his head, choosing to ignore the obvious meaning behind his words. The man was not stupid and he had started to notice the distance he was putting between them. "It's a great party sir. I'm so glad your lovely wife extended an invitation." He groans internally, anger at Mellie brewing. He really shouldn't have been surprised that Mellie ignored his wishes especially when she had almost launched a campaign to get Hollis invited. He really did not understand that woman sometimes. She hated the man as much as he did. "Great seeing you Hollis" he says as he brushes past the man, patting his shoulder in the process. Urgency motivating his departure. He did not have time for this. He had to go see where this woman and her partner were.

At first he goes right, thinking that they might have wanted to leave the gala, so he walks quickly to the exit. When he gets outside he huffs in frustration not seeing the couple anywhere. Worry etching its way to his mind, hoping they had not left yet. He spots one of the parking attendants and impatiently calls the man to his side. "Did a man and a woman just leave the gala?". He watches as the parking attendant shakes his head before mumbling no and a small portion of relief fills him. He quickly thanks him and turns to head back inside. Where could they have gone? The White House was big to say the least, but guards were patrolling all the areas guests weren't allowed to enter, so they couldn't really have gone far. Frustration eats at him. He runs his hands through his hair and just before he rounds another corner he spots a door slightly ajar, a door that led to his private gardens.

Without thinking his feet take him to the door. He closes it behind him as he looks left and right before deciding to make his way to the fountain. He hears the crickets and the rush from the fountain. In the background the live band can still be heard. Impatience to find the woman drives him and just as he reaches the stairs leading down to the fountain in the middle of the garden he spots a shadowed figure. He feels his heart pick up speed and hitch as the figure turns slightly, her profile illuminated by the light coming from the fountain.

_Olivia_... For the first time in a year he sees her, and he stops mid-step. Everything stills around him. No...This is impossible...Olivia died...His Livvie was dead the last time he'd seen her...they had a memorial...they had spread her ashes...He had started drinking...he had become a shell of a man without her...how was she still alive? He feels his mouth dry as he watches her staring at the fountain. He puts his hand to his chest, feeling unable to breathe as his eyes run over her again and again, never wanting to forget this moment, and engraving her beauty in his mind. All he can see is her. He sees her chocolate skin that he's caressed so many times before, the graceful neck that he couldn't stop kissing...he knows her eyes would be sparkling. He feels his body shaking from the shock of the moment and of seeing her alive. As if on their own accord his feet start moving down the steps, this time faster and then he reaches her. He stretches his shaking hand out hesitantly to touch her, to make sure she was actually here and that his mind is not playing tricks on him.

"Livvie..." he whispers softly as his hand makes contact with her shoulder. He sees her swing around frightened, not expecting anyone to sneak up on her. He looks at her shocked face and all the emotion he has tried to push down the last few months comes rushing back at him. The overwhelming love he has for her. The devastating sadness he felt at her loss and death, the anger at her for leaving him and now standing before him alive. He feels the tears in his eyes, but forces himself not to drop them. Then he pulls her to his body, holding her tightly against him, his hand running over the back of her hair. He wills his mind to accept this by making his body feel her, feel her alive. She's standing rigid in his arms and then he feels her pushing against him and as he releases her he sees fear in her eyes, something he doesn't understand.

"Livvie...but...you died...how?" he whispers as he places his hands on her cheeks, staring at her wanting to memorize her face. His love for her evident in his eyes and touch. He leans down and just before he kisses her he feels her pull back roughly, pushing him away from her. His hands drop from her face.

"No! What the hell do you think you are doing?" he hears her hiss as she crosses her arms, anger evident on her face. He stares at her open-mouthed not believing that after what she put him through, thinking she was dead, leaving him alone for a year, then showing up tonight she was denying him and was angry at him. Anger at her builds up in him and makes its way to the surface...She made him think she was dead. She left him alone...she betrayed and lied to him...that she had planned all of this, to get him to leave her alone. He feels the disbelief and disappointment, the rejection and utter loneliness. And then he feels the pain of the last year being amplified by her betrayal. She had hurt him beyond reason. For goodness sake she just abandoned him and left him to suffer.

He's shaking from barely contained rage now, the shock of seeing her adding to his anger induced brain. "What am I doing Olivia? What am I doing?" he asks repeating her question. "What the hell are you doing here?" he shouts pointing his finger at her and stepping closer. She was supposed to be dead. Olivia reels back in shock and a little bit of fear. The man, nay, the president of the United States was about to kiss her and instead of her justified anger getting answers, here he was shouting at her wanting answers. What the hell was going on?

"How do you know my name?" she asks bewildered. She sees him start laughing like a madman, unable to stop as he runs his hands through his hair, which only fuels her anger. "How do I know your name? Oh, come on Olivia, stop playing games with me. You screwed up the illusion moment you came here tonight. How the hell could you do this to me, do this to us, especially after all we've been through?" How could she? How could she just show up like this without telling him. He pulls his hands into fists and feels his body shaking slightly...his jaw is tense as he waits for her answer.

What was he talking about? What games? What illusion? Them? "I don't know what you are talking about. I don't know who the 'us' are that you are talking about. I don't know you...?" She says resolutely, uncertainty lacing her voice, not understanding this turn of events or the reason for his anger.

"Olivia, Cut. It. Out. Acting like this is really irritating and insulting. You know what we were, you know what we are. How the hell are you alive?. How could you betray me like this? How the fuck could you leave me like that? How the fuck could you fake your own death and show up tonight after almost a year, a year where I drank myself into unconsciousness night after night and wished that I was with you. Making me loathe myself for feeling that way because I have kids. Kids who need me."

Olivia watches him as he rants, confusion gripping her insides. Fake her own death? What was he talking about? She was in a car accident. They said she must have skipped a light and someone had hit her on the left where she was sitting. Clasping her hands together she watches as he steps closer to her and she steps back. She feels her body shaking, but not from complete fear and instead from shock. For some unknown reason she knows he won't hurt her despite his obvious anger.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Do you get some sick satisfaction from my pain?! " he shouts, waving his hands without care and then moving towards her again.

"Excuse me?" Comes the indignant reply...Olivia's fire not far from the surface. He grabbed her. he wanted to kiss her and now he's accusing her of all these things. "How dare you say something like that when you don't even know me?"

He chooses to ignore her outburst, not believing this act she was putting on. She was good. He had to give her credit.

"How could you show up with another guy and throw him in my face?" he whispers, a lone tear running down his cheek before he promptly wipes it away. She sees the tear run down his face and she's at a loss of what to say, sadness for him in her heart which manages to confuse her further. That feeling of knowing him runs through her and what shocks her more, a hint of desire does too, which makes her step back again, wanting to get away from how crazy the situation was.

He watches as she takes another step back, a frown on her face as she stares at him, shock and anger duelling for dominance. What was she going to do? This was really beginning to make her uncomfortable... She looks at him and decides on telling him the truth. "Mr. President...I think you might have me confused with someone else" she mumbles, deciding to ignore the fact that he called her by her name, before she even gave it and that he accused her of doing things that was definitely not her. She'll think about that later when she was alone. "I have no idea what you are talking about" she says clearly, her voice leaving no place for a counter argument. He stares at her in disbelief...not knowing what to say any further, emotion overwhelming him...he can see in her eyes that what she's telling him is something she believes.

"Olivia...stop playing with me" comes the tired yet firm reply. "I'm not playing!" Frustration lacing her voice. She moves to walk past him but he steps in front of her. "Get out of my damn way. You might be the president but I know my rights, so mov..."

"Shut up! Just shut up for one minute and let me think..." he doesn't let her finish and strangely she listens to him. Not really knowing why. She would never listen to anyone who spoke to her like the way he was speaking, rather shouting at her.

Olivia hugs herself as she stares at the President of the country. This was really becoming one of the strangest nights she had ever had. Her eyes run over his face and she sees the pain, anger and unshed tears in his eyes. Attraction to this stranger overpowers her other feelings as it takes hold of her. She feels her breath hitch slightly as she stares at him. Did she know him before her accident? Did she meet him after Cyrus had called her to join the campaign? Were they friends? What was going on?

"You don't know, do you...?" he whispers tiredly to her as the realization dawns on him that she didn't know and as she shakes her head, saying no for the millionth time that night, he feels the exhaustion. Everything that happened in the year bearing down on him at once, making him feel 80 instead of the 50 he was. The stress and hurt he kept at bay released with the truth – Olivia had memory loss...she didn't remember him...she didn't remember their love...she didn't remember.

A man passes them and hands her a clutch before placing his jacket over her shoulders. Still only staring at her he watches as she places the Olivia Pope mask on her face, the one he knew so well by now, turning her head and smiling at her date, thanking him. He then shifts his eyes and looks at her date. "Jake?" Fitz says shocked.

"Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III, wow man, it's been a while" Jake says extending his hand to his long time friend that turned into a weird bro hug. "Let me introduce you to my date, the beautiful Olivia Pope." Fitz turns his head to Olivia as Jake says this, noting the blush on her face and not liking it one bit. The shock of her claiming to not know, still running through him. "We've met" is all he says as he watches Olivia. He can see from her face that her mind is running a mile a minute to try to figure things out.

"Anyway, it was good seeing you Fitzgerald. We were just about to leave actually. I wanted to show Olivia the gardens before we did." Jake says shaking Fitz's hand again, not liking the way Fitz was looking at her and the way Olivia was staring at his friend. Fitz nods. "It was nice meeting you again Olivia". "Likewise." Is all she says before she passes him and they walk up the garden steps.

Fitz looks down at the grass at his feet. Was he really going to just let her go like that? Before he can form another thought his mouth opens as if on a will of its own. "Wait" he calls out, turning as both Olivia and Jake look back at him a questioning look covering both their faces. He just stares at the couple, his eyes moving from Jake's face and over Olivia's. He was not ready to let her go just yet. What if she disappeared again? What if this was the last time he saw her. he couldn't just let her walk out of his life after only just getting her back, after only just feeling his heart mend at her being alive. Confusion about the situation was still eating at him and he needed answers. "Yes, Mr President?" He looks back to Jake. "I hope you had a wonderful time tonight. Please remember to take a gift bag on the way out." is all he can think to say as he watches Jake nod his head before guiding Olivia with him to the entrance of the White House.

Before she enters, she turns back to look at him and she sees him still watching her, his shoulders slightly hunched, and she feels that undeniable spark again. How did she know him? She thinks as she turns back and enters into the warmth. As Fitz watches her go, Jake's hand on the small of her back he promises himself and her that this was not over. This was not the end of their conversation. He was going to find out just what exactly was going on... and he already knew who he was going to talk to first.

* * *

**A/N: Dum...dum...dum...who is it Fitz is going to talk to? More revelations coming in chapter 9.**

**I hope I did Olitz justice in this first meeting! Let me know what you guys thought and if you are happy with this chapter!**

**Question answers:**_ I decided Olivia was not the big political fixer that she is in the show, so OPA does not exist. It would be impossible for people at the gala to not notice that she was alive. She just worked on Fitz's campaign. How does she not know that? Well someone erased her life and replaced it with other information that's why she did not question things. _


End file.
